


Shylock

by Inner_Devil



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Body hate, Complete, M/M, Nudity, Scars, graphic description of nudity, then body love, torture scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inner_Devil/pseuds/Inner_Devil
Summary: Sherlock and John have finally gotten together after years of prodding and joking from their friends. But after spending two years together, John begins to wonder why they haven't had sex yet. It isn't as though he hasn't tried. So finally, he decides to find out the truth. Will their relationship be able to survive it?





	Shylock

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Sherlock is self conscious or embarrassed about being naked/John seeing him naked

Sherlock hated his body. He always had and he was convinced he always would. He was too tall, too bony, too angular, too pale, too everything. And after he came home from Serbia, he now had scars lashed across his back to hate. There was nothing about is body that he liked, but he'd never told anyone that. No one would believe him anyway. Everyone seemed to think he was the perfect embodiment of sex on legs, but he just didn't see it. And now there was John.

He and John had been together for nearly two years now and he knew John was getting antsy. They had never had sex, not properly. They'd fooled around, giving each other handjobs through their clothes and making each other cum in their pants through various methods. But they'd never been entirely naked with each other. John was willing to strip in front of his lover, even when he was wearing those ridiculous red shorts that were still somehow incredibly sexy. They did show off his package rather well, a few curly blond hairs poking out around the edges. But that was beside the point. He was sure John would want to actually have sex soon and, well.... Sherlock wasn't so sure he could handle it. He wanted it, he did. But he didn't want John to see him naked and there was no way to have it both ways. Either he had to let John see him naked or they couldn't have sex. Not like that. 

So now Sherlock was trying to adjust. He hoped that if he slowly got used to seeing himself naked in the mirror, then he would eventually be able to be naked in front of John. That's what he was doing now, standing in his room in nothing but a dressing gown. It was one of his favourites and he'd hoped that would make him feel a bit better about what was underneath. So, standing in front of his full length mirror, he untied the gown and let the midnight blue silk fall delicately from his shoulders and pool around his bare feet. Looking at himself in the mirror, he began with his face. Angular, pale, sharp features framed by curls that only seemed to enhance how pale his skin was. All right, move on. His eyes slid down his neck, long and delicate, to his shoulders. Hardly manly at all. He'd always been more feminine in his appearance and boys in school had bullied him for it, among other things. 

All right, move past it. Something else. Maybe something else is better. So he moved his attention from his shoulders down to his chest. Light curls littered across his chest, barely covering a thing. Hardly sexy, in his mind. John's were a bit darker and there were more of them, actually covering his chest. And then there were Sherlock's nipples, dark pink with a hint of a light brown mixed in there. They were practically minuscule, barely there. John's were gorgeous, especially when he was embarrassed. He blushed all the way down to his chest and his nipples were so plump and easy to tease. So sensitive. Sherlock's.....well, he wasn't even sure he could call them nipples, as tiny as they seemed to be. 

Next were his hips, sharp and bony. Hardly attractive, he thought. John's hands seemed to rest there a lot, but that may have just been because they stuck out so much that someone could rest a drink on them. He could barely look at them before he felt uncomfortable, so he moved on to his legs. They were long and, unlike most of his body, seemed to have gained muscle from chasing after criminals all day. They were fairly toned, but still just as pale as the rest of his body. There were lighter hairs there too, though somewhat darker than those on his chest. Enough to show, but he wasn't particularly fond of it. 

Finally, he forced himself to look at his groin. A dark bush of curls formed there, covering the base of his penis. It looked grotesque to him, wrinkled and full of dark veins. The head stuck out like, well, a sort thumb really. It was thinner than John's, but longer. He preferred his lover's. It was darker, shorter, and thicker, surrounded by a bush of gorgeous blond curls. There was nothing ugly about it. It was perfect. Sherlock's.....well, it was far from, he thought.

"Sherlock?" John's voice suddenly cut through his focus. The detective's head spun quickly towards John in shock and he blushed deeply.

"J-John," he stammered, frozen in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, love," John chuckled, stepping into the room. He couldn't deny the fact that seeing Sherlock naked aroused him, but he tried not to show it, assuming Sherlock just wasn't interested in having sex that way. "What're you doing in here? We're supposed to go out for lunch, remember?"

They had a date today, right. And here Sherlock was, completely naked and embarrassed. He finally managed to scoop up his dressing gown, trembling a bit as he put it back on and tied it closed. 

"I....I'm sorry, John. I'll get dressed. I was just....experimenting," Sherlock lied, heading towards his closet to get something to wear.

"Experimenting? With what? It looked like you were standing there naked. Admiring yourself?" the doctor teased with a little smile.

"Hardly," Sherlock muttered, thinking John wouldn't hear.

"What?" John asked, tilting his head. "Sherlock......what's going on? Do you think you aren't attractive?"

Sherlock sighed, not even bothering to look for clothes anymore. He had to come clean and tell John what was going on. It was only fair. He couldn't keep this up for another two years, or for the rest of their lives.

"John.......I hate my body," Sherlock admitted, finally turning towards the man. "I hate it. Absolutely loathe it. It's hideous to me and that's why I've never let you see me naked. I want to have sex with you, I do. But I can't stand for anyone to see me naked. I hate seeing myself that way and the idea that anyone could find me attractive once they've seen the whole of me is just implausible."

John took in the new information quietly, knitting his brows. "Seriously? You think you're ugly?" he murmured, then stepped over to the other. "Sherlock, you are such an idiot," he chuckled. "You are absolutely gorgeous. Drop dead sexy. Your body is perfect and it always will be to me." He reached forward, touching the edge of Sherlock's dressing gown on his shoulder. "Can I show you how beautiful you are to me?" he asked quietly.

Sherlock gulped, eyes wide, then nodded. This was a huge step for him, but it had to happen eventually. Maybe John would see his naked body, realise he was right, and leave. That was the only option Sherlock could imagine. But boy was he wrong.

John gently removed the dressing gown, bit by bit. He slid it off of Sherlock's shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to it. 

"Your shoulders are broad and perfectly fitted to your body. Your eyes and face are breathtaking," John whispered against Sherlock's shoulder. He then continued, moving to Sherlock's chest. "Your pecs look like you've worked out every day of your life and yet they're still so soft and welcoming. Your nipples......fuck, they're gorgeous. I've never gotten to see them before, but just look at them. Like perfect kisses on your body. And your belly is perfectly curved right there." 

Sherlock swallowed hard yet again as John continued. Sooner or later, John would reach his crotch and see the most horrific part of him. He'd run for sure then, and he certainly wouldn't kiss it.

"Your hips carry you perfectly and show off that gorgeous arse," John purred, placing a kiss on each hip and kneeling in front of Sherlock as though in worship. His hands slid of Sherlock's hips and bum, letting the dressing gown fall to the ground. "And just look at these thighs. They're so toned and muscular. And so are your calves," he hummed, kissing each one gently. "And look at your knees, perfect little caps on your legs," he added with a smile. 

Surely John was avoiding his crotch. That's what it was, Sherlock was sure. He was going to every other part of his body because he just didn't want to even think about Sherlock's penis. Slowly, tears began to well up in his eyes as he worried more and more that John would leave him.

"J-John......." he stammered. "Y-you don't h-have to."

"I want to," John told him gently, nuzzling his thigh gently to show him he was sincere. "I'm almost to my favourite part anyway. Now let's see, where were we? Ah, yes. Your feet. Perfect arches and nails trimmed just right. And when you come out of the shower, they're always a little pink from the water," he chuckled, kissing them as well. "And now the best part of all," he hummed with a smile, raising his head to look directly at Sherlock's crotch. His own had been stirring in his pants the whole time as he'd been thinking about this very part of his lover. 

"Sinful 'v' right here, absolutely tantalizing every time I see it. Especially when you wear those low hanging trousers," John hummed with a soft chuckle. "And then there's my favourite bit of you. Your cock is absolutely gorgeous. I can't believe I've gone so long without seeing it. I've felt it and I had a picture in my head, but this.....it's so much better than I ever imagined. So long and lithe. Just like the rest of you. I.....Can I?" he asked, a hand reached towards Sherlock's dick.

Sherlock nodded, though he was still a bit nervous. Maybe John wouldn't like how it looked when he came. Maybe he wouldn't like it when it was hard. Maybe....

He lost his train of thought as John's hand wrapped around his length, stroking it gently. Sherlock's breath caught for a moment before he let himself relax, letting John handle everything. But eventually, his knees began to get weak and he moved them to the bed where they could both be more comfortable.

John went at it like he never had before, watching Sherlock's every move to make sure he was enjoying it. Using his hand and mouth at different points, he felt Sherlock get hard and continued pressing kisses to his length to show that he still loved every last bit of Sherlock. And for the first time in two years, they had sex. "Real" sex, that is. John grabbed a condom and slid it on with Sherlock's permission, making sure the detective was okay and actually wanted this before they went at it. John finally was able to penetrate Sherlock and it was the best sex he'd ever had, even if there were a few mistakes here and there. But they fit together so well, they didn't care what happened. And when it was finally over, they collapsed together in Sherlock's bed, panting and sweating, but both grinning.

"Now do you believe me?" John murmured as he caught his breath. "I love every last piece of you. You're beautiful to me, all over. And I love you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes."

Sherlock smiled, looking into John's eyes. "I do," he admitted. "And I love you, John Hamish Watson."

The pair cuddled for a while until John began to chuckle a bit.

"What?" Sherlock asked, raising a brow as he began to worry once more.

"I don't think we're going to make it to our date in time," John chuckled.

Sherlock smirked, relaxing. "That's all right. This was so much better." 


End file.
